


A small measure of comfort

by darkparadise16



Category: Holby City
Genre: F/F, Grief/Mourning, Healing, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-09-18 15:41:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9391805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkparadise16/pseuds/darkparadise16
Summary: Set a few weeks after Eleanor's death. A short one-shot that immediately popped into my head after last night's episode. Focuses on Bernie's way of coping with those flowers.Pretty short, wanted to keep it that way and it focuses more on healing than on grief. Not really sure where this came from but I think it's quite true to characters. Let me know what you think anyway :)





	

Bernie lasts 3 weeks before she snaps. 

She told herself Serena probably wants them around for a little while longer but she’s had enough. Constantly trying to stay strong for someone whilst immediately feeling inadequate and completely, desperately helpless had taken its toll.

She hadn’t decided to destroy them until she got in, contemplating going for an extra-long run to blow off some steam, take her frustrations out on her body as always, knowing it could take it, before coming home to provide whatever measure of comfort and support she could to Serena. That’s what it was now, doing every tiny thing she could for Serena, tiptoeing about, simply there as an unconditional shadow of support whenever Serena needed to reach out, trying to carry on as normal (which of course never works) and simply allowing her to set the pace. She was after all, completely unexperienced in this.

So it was no surprise when the guilt set in.

A few minutes after returning home, she had been immediately hit with the fragrance of an overpowering perfume. At least 20 different types of flowers were scattered around the home, constantly taunting them with their morbid reminder, setting her teeth on edge. So she did what Bernie Wolfe does best in a crisis – messed it all up. Quite literally. With a pair of scissors and 5 bouquets, she snapped, chopped and… well frankly eradicated-from-the-face-of-the-earth-into-a-thousand-multicoloured-confettis until her silent tears had stopped falling and her fingers bore blisters in the creases.

Closing the lid with a firm thud, she dried her wet cheeks, disposed of her shoes and coat, and settled on washing up as a therapeutic task to take her mind of that guilt. One moment of madness and she had destroyed possibly a small comfort of Serena’s in the past few weeks. People showing their sympathies through carnations and lilies had never been a tradition she’d understood, or adhered to, preferring to offer tangible support through actions, however this wasn’t always her strong suit either. Obviously…

Standing at the sink and beginning to scrub the bubbles onto the plate, she hears the front door open and knows it’s Serena. Despite the fact she would know her footsteps anywhere and that subtle perfume she adorns so well, daily walks in the afternoon have become something of a ritual for Serena. Keen to give her anything she needs, Bernie has stayed resolutely away from those moments, content knowing that after an hour or so she will find her way home, come in, and, depending on her mood, switch the TV on and watch aimlessly for a while, or wordlessly sit next to her, reaching out for a physical connection of some sorts. 

Today… is slightly different. She hears Serena shut the door and dump her things, take a few steps, and suddenly her voice reaches Bernie’s ears

“Where are the flowers?”

Bernie tenses slightly but is too exhausted to wrap anything in cotton wool so replies with honesty

“Oh I cut them up into the bin outside. Was sick of looking at them”. Her voice is soft, almost defeated and Serena’s heart aches for how much she loves this woman.

“Sorry if I overstepped the mark… I uchm, I just thought-“ 

She’s mid-sentence when Serena closes the gap between them, joins Bernie’s side, turns her head and plants a firm kiss on her lips. It is tender and soft, Bernie’s right arm flinging out of the soap buds to gather her up and hold her close, Serena’s arms wrapped around her neck as their mouths open for a tender connection. They break away softly, still maintaining the contact and Serena holds her gaze, giving her a smile for the first time in days. Bernie could cry with how relieved she is in that moment.

Their foreheads touch before Serena steps away, and with a determined tone not heard for weeks, makes her feelings on the matter crystal clear

“Don’t forget the tulips” – all 27 of them of course

Nodding slightly and returning a small smile, Bernie responds “Righty” before returning to the dishes. 

The rest of the flowers are gone by the end of the week


End file.
